


Hopes and Fears

by Athene



Category: Undertale (Video Game)
Genre: Alternate Origins, Light Angst, M/M, Pre-Canon, before the fallen humans
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-18
Updated: 2019-04-18
Packaged: 2020-01-15 19:26:39
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,262
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18505513
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Athene/pseuds/Athene
Summary: Long before humans find their way into the Underground, Gaster ferries monsters on the river and Grillby is a job creator for monsters in Hotland. An unpleasant reminder in the form of a question leads to solemn reflection of time in the Underground -- and talk of retirement.





	Hopes and Fears

**Author's Note:**

> This hits the same relationship beats presented in _Appearances_ , which I initially categorized as Underswap, and could be considered in the same continuity. This idea is quickly turning into its own thing instead of staying true to the Underswap concept though, so while the other fic could be standalone Underswap, this one starts hinting at other AU details.

Grillby paused at the top of the steps that led down to the riverside, frowning to himself. Even from a distance, he could see that Gaster had a visitor.

There were very few who visited the Riverman. Certainly, there were customers who sought the Riverman’s services and were ferried through the Underground, but they were not there with the expressed intent to speak to him. There were curious monster children who would wave and chatter as he waited for fare, and they could be considered visitors if Gaster mustered up the will to converse with them.

But this visitor was no child. Taller and broader than most monsters, emanating a strong magical presence softened by a complete lack of dangerous intent, King Asgore was easy to identify from several paces away.

With a furtive glance back over his shoulder, Grillby continued down the steps. Towards the water. Towards the two who spoke in such quiet tones that he couldn’t hear their voices over the constant burble of the river.

Gaster saw him first, acknowledging him with a faint shift of his hood. The king was next, offering him a tentative smile that Grillby did not return. “Howdy! Fancy meeting you here, Mr. Grillby.”

There was a tense moment before Grillby dipped into a bow without his usual flourish. “Your Majesty.” He found it difficult to retain any sense of bravado around the boss monster’s aura, even with Gaster right there beside him. While he bore no outright hate towards Asgore, he couldn’t deny a tinge of displeasure at the sight of him.

But every other emotion paled in comparison to the protective feeling that threatened to take over and shove him directly between the king and skeleton. It was all he could do to keep his fire in check as he stepped away from Asgore and positioned himself closer to Gaster.

“I won’t keep you any longer.” Asgore returned to his conversation with a genial upswing in his voice, as if trying to convince himself he was talking about pleasant things. “Please keep what I said in mind, and have a good day.”

From his periphery, Grillby could see Gaster’s hood shift again, but he didn’t take his eyes off of the king. With a sweep of his cape, the quiet monarch stepped away from the riverside and walked back towards the sweltering heat of Hotland, likely heading home. Tension bled out of Grillby as he turned his attention to his friend, one hand reaching up to nervously adjust his glasses.

“Are you okay?” 

Gaster flicked his fingers in a dismissive gesture, head bowed. “Yes. No. He … did nothing wrong. Don’t look so worried.”

He caught those fingers before Gaster could drop them out of sight, feeling them twitch and tremble in his fiery grasp. His voice dipped low, without a hint of the whimsical affect he projected to the rest of the world. “You’re scared. I’m going to worry regardless.” 

An unnecessary exhale escaped the black-robed figure, and he remained silent in contemplation. Grillby stood at his side, patient and painting the dark shore orange with licks of flame. There were few things that he could imagine would bring the king of monsters down to the river, and even fewer topics that would require conversation with the Riverman.

“He asked if I could cross the barrier.” 

The words came after such a long silence that Grillby had trouble parsing them, and he stared owlishly at his friend for a moment before he found his voice. “That’s ridiculous.”

“Apparently not ridiculous enough!” There was a hysterical note to Gaster’s following laughter, warbling unsteadily as he shuddered and turned to face the river. “Even if I _could_ , I _wouldn’t_. Not even by his command.”

Grillby continued to hold his hand, knowing it would disappear into the folds of Gaster’s robe the moment he let go. “Not for war.”

“No –- not for any reason,” the skeleton clarified, sighing audibly and tightening his grip on his companion’s hand. “I leave the Underground when you do. When the barrier is gone.  Not a moment sooner.”

He was touched by the sentiment, and didn’t have to ask about Gaster’s resolve. Crossing the barrier alone was a terrifying idea, and he had no doubt that such feelings had to plague the king as well. No one in the Underground stood a chance against a human’s devastating power, and the war, though a distant echo in their minds, remained a grim reminder of what awaited them beyond the mountain.

“We’ve already been down here a long, long time.” Long enough to establish settlements in as much of the mountain as they could reach. “Some monsters have already fallen down due to old age.”

Of course, monsters did not age in the same way that humans did, and different types had their own aging differences as well. Larger monster types, generally composed of more magic, tended to live longer. There were exceptions, as some monsters could improve their longevity in certain environments and magical capacity with training, but Grillby was seeing fewer and fewer such exceptions as memory of the war waned and monsters returned to their more peaceful nature.

The other hummed his agreement, but said nothing to pursue the topic further. When Gaster slowly turned to look over his shoulder, Grillby blinked warily at the flicker of purple visible under his hood. “No theatrics today?”

“Even with how much of it I do, flamboyance is exhausting,” Grillby wryly replied, a cautious step taking him closer to Gaster’s side -– as well as closer to the river’s edge. “Especially when the king makes me nervous.”

“It’s charming. But I may be biased.”

A small smile twitched its way onto his face, barely visible in the constant movement of his flames. “May be? You think everything I do is charming.”

“…True. You could leave behind your three-piece suits and never say another word and I would still find you charming.”

The shift in conversation brought with it a jovial crackle from Grillby’s headflame. “I’ll keep that in mind for when I retire.” When he noticed a questioning shift from Gaster’s hood, he continued. “’Retire’ might be too strong a word. When I move on.”

He could almost hear the question climbing up Gaster’s nonexistent throat, but it never came. Instead, he sounded quiet and careful in his pensiveness. “I suppose that makes sense. You have so many connections now that you could probably do whatever you want.”

“I hope, whenever that time comes, that you’ll come with me.”

Gaster bowed his head, and Grillby followed his gaze down to their clasped hands. His hesitation was palpable.

“I… Maybe.”

It was better than the firm rejection that he received when he asked Gaster to leave the river a long while back. Maybe things were getting better. Maybe he was starting to understand that the other monsters weren’t afraid of him.

“You have time to think about it.” He didn’t want to pressure Gaster into anything; it was far too easy for him to flee and isolate himself on the river when he felt cornered, as upsetting as it was for both of them. “I doubt things are going to change anytime soon.”

That seemed to comfort Gaster, as his fingers relaxed against his own. A moment of peace.

Monsters thrived on feelings of love, compassion, and hope. It made sense to make plans for the future.

After all, they had no way of shattering the barrier without humans entering the Underground. They might as well find hope in smaller, potentially attainable things.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! I hope to explore this idea (and the very vague things mentioned about Gaster) more in the future, as inspiration comes to me.


End file.
